


Yes Deer

by Ehann



Series: Yes Deer [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Accidents, Caretaker Castiel, Doctor Gabriel (Supernatural), Gen, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nurse Castiel, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 02:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12998142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ehann/pseuds/Ehann
Summary: Dean Winchester, famous Country singer is outed as gay. While running from his life he hits a deer in the middle of nowhere's-ville Virginia. He would have died at the scene if the off duty ICU nurse Castiel hadn't saved him.Like Dean, Cas is also at a crossroads in his life. He's recovering from the worst code in his ten year career and not even sure he wants to keep being a nurse if nothing he does makes a difference. When he finds Dean trapped in his car Castiel saves him without a second thought. Can Dean show Castiel just how much he matters?





	1. In which Dean crashes into Castiel's life

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: 
> 
> Trigger warning for graphic descriptions of trauma patients, hospital/ICU life, PTSD in nursing. Here there be blood.

He wasn’t running. He wasn’t. Stadium of fans notwithstanding. Dean Winchester turned onto the first highway he could find. Where he was going didn’t matter. Nothing did. After tonight his career as a country singer was over, plain and simple, and nothing he did would change that. 

This far out in bum-fuck Virginia no streetlights lined the highways. Nothing out here but the dark anyway. Nearest real city-because no matter what the locals thought Charlottesville was not a city- was Richmond. Was that East or West from here? Dean couldn’t seem to remember. He rubbed his eyes. No sleep last night, too much to drink today plus not enough water probably, meant that his head was about to split open and his vision was bleary at best.

Eventually he noticed that his was the only car on the road. The double laned highway had narrowed down to a winding two lane blacktop that twisted past country stores and closed wineries. He pulled his cell phone from his jacket. No signal. Awesome. 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It didn’t help the cement block in his stomach, or the feeling that his life was about to fall apart. He tried another few deep breaths but it only made him lightheaded and tingly. Okay, so new plan. Better find somewhere to turn around and head back to civilization.

Dean passed one or two side streets that looked like they didn’t go anywhere before deciding on the next right. However, once he turned onto--what was it? --Plank Road, he found that the road fell away sharply on either side. Also, it was narrow as fuck and there was no way he was turning around here. “Fucking Virginia,” he muttered. Fine then. He’d just keep driving. Eventually he would A-get some cell service, or B- run into a highway.

However, after another half an hour of driving around in the ridiculous blackness of Virginia, Dean was forced to reevaluate. He was totally and utterly lost. Plank Road turned into Stone Mountain Gap road, which had so many switchbacks and blind curves he’d had to slow way down. Fog had settled into the valleys between hilltops just to add to his anxiety. He checked his phone again, and it stubbornly refused to pick up even a single bar.

He glanced back to the road just in time to plow into a deer. Time slowed way down and Dean found himself with plenty of time to think, _holy shit I’m about to die out here_. He felt oddly distanced from everything. He watched calmly as his car shot over a bluff, and crashed through a wooden fence at a rather frightening angle. He watched the world turn over and over as the car rolled sideways down the hill. A tree seemed to fly by the windshield and again Dean had plenty of time to think, _Yep, I’m definitely about to die_. It seemed completely natural to be so detached. 

The car slammed abruptly to a stop as it crashed into a small brick building. Dean dropped back into real time and then the pain hit. He was aware that his face was wet and warm, and then the Virginia black took him.

Xxx

He came back to consciousness slowly. First he was aware of the cold air on his skin. Then he smelled fresh cut grass. Gradually he became aware of his body. His chest felt like an elephant was sitting on him and breathing was a struggle. A single attempt at coughing showed him that was a really really bad idea. Also, his left leg was totally jacked from the knee down and he was pretty sure his collarbone was busted. Slow shallow breaths he thought, and tried not to giggle. He was going to die in the middle of nowhere. Because there was no way that anyone would find him at the bottom of a fucking ravine or wherever the hell he was. Maybe it’s better this way he thought, and closed his eyes. He was so fucking cold. He’d just rest a little while and then see about getting out of the car.

Time passed. 

 

Someone was talking but he couldn’t make out the words. Dean wanted to respond but he was just so _cold_. Everything seemed far away. His eyelids were pried open and a bright light about blinded him. The world snapped back into place. He tried to talk but a weak croak was the only noise that came out. He blinked a bunch of times. His vision was blurred up and his head felt like a silver spike had been thrust through it.

“…it easy. You’re okay.” 

Dean brought his left hand to his face tried to swipe away whatever goop was sticking there. Blinking rapidly, he peered down at his hand, trying to make sense of what he saw. His fingers were covered in a deep maroon sticky liquid. _That’s a weird color_ , he thought.

Pain exploded across his temple.

“Just some pressure, Buddy. You’ve got a piece of your scalp hanging off there and you’re bleeding pretty good.”

Dean tried to lean his head away from the burning pressure but that just set off the grinding in his collarbone. “Urp,” he managed.

“Yes, I can see that,” the voice answered. “I know it hurts like a bitch, but no joke man, you’ve lost a lot of blood, and I don’t want you to lose any more.”

Dean forced his eyes open again and tried to focus on his good Samaritan. Blurry. So blurry. Dark hair, light eyes. He let his eyes fall shut again. “Ugh,” he said.

A dark chuckle answered him. “I feel you Buddy, I do.” The man paused and then added, “When this slows down to a dull ooze, we should try and get you out of this car. This is kind of a dead area for cell service and hard for Pegasus to get here.”

Dean tried and failed to figure out why this crazy guy was talking about winged horses.

“What’s your name anyway?”

“…Dean,” he said, and then coughed. _Please make it stop_. Tears leaked out from the corners of his eyes. He felt a gentle touch on his face. 

“I know, Bud. This really sucks. But we gotta get you out of this car and to a hospital so you can get better. And Dean, I’m sorry to tell you, that is really gonna suck for you.”

The smallest of snorts. “Your…bedside…manner…is…awful…” Dean gritted out. He felt the warmth from the man’s body as he leaned closer- through the broken drivers window. “Y’name,” he said. “ ‘s y’name.” No deep breaths. Short and shallow wins the race.

“Oh, me? Castiel,” the man said as he jiggled the car door handle a couple times before prying it open with a grunt. He leaned over Dean and unsnapped the seatbelt.

“Doctor?” Dean managed to ask. His right arm seriously did not want to move.

“Um, no actually,” Castiel said, distracted. “I’m an ICU nurse.” 

Dean heard the other man take a deep breath. Asshole.

“I’m gonna pull my car right up here so we just have to get you in and then I’ll take you to the hospital, okay?”

“No hospitals,” Dean croaked.

“Ha ha you’re a funny guy. Be right back.”

“I mean it—OW!” Dean tried to breathe and it really really sucked. In. Out. See? Breathing. It’s a thing. The ground rumbled next to him and he saw a car pull up.

“Okay Dean, you ready?” Castiel asked.

“No hospital,” Dean tried again.

“Uh-huh,” Castiel answered. “So I’m gonna get your legs and spin you on the seat, then we’re gonna stand and pivot into my car.”

“…crazy. Think my legs broken.” Dean could sense that he was being glared at.

“That means you have a leg that’s not broken. Or, I will pick your ass up and set it down in my car. But you ARE getting out of that car, Dean, and I AM taking you to a hospital.”

There was no way this guy was a nurse, Dean thought. Aren’t nurses supposed to be all caring and shit? The world spun abruptly and exploded into agony. The noise that he made wasn’t a scream okay? It wasn’t. He felt so lightheaded and sick. “…gonna puke,” he mumbled miserably, and then vomited all down his front.

“You’re okay Dean, you probably have low blood pressure from the loss of blood. That happens sometimes. I got you. Just keep breathing okay? Can you do that for me?” His deep rumbly voice was really soft and gentle now. It was nice.

Dean nodded. He felt cloth wipe over his mouth and lips, cleaning the mess away.

“Ready Dean? I’m gonna help you up, and it’s really gonna suck. You can hold onto me.”

“Can’t,” he said, struggling to open his eyes. Why did they keep closing? Why was he so fucking cold? 

“It’s okay, Bud. Just keep breathing.” Strong arms lifted him out of the wrecked car, and Dean screamed.

 

XXX

 

Dean drifted. 

He screamed again when they laid him on a stretcher. Too many people around him, and he was so cold. Why were they cutting his clothes off? Pinches on his arm followed by the sensation of cool. His teeth chattered. Beeping. So much beeping. Words passed over him that made no sense. Rumbly voice was somewhere. What was his name? Casper? Cass? 

“…not responding to us.”

“Dean! Open your eyes Dean! Open your eyes and look at me, Dean!” Rumbly voice. Dean tried. “I need you to squeeze my hand, Dean,” Rumbly ordered him. “Good job, that was good, Dean. Now I need you to wiggle your toes.”

Cold jelly poured on his belly and then something hard and even colder pressed into him. “You see that Gabe?”

“Uh-huh. Now look at the left. What do you think?”

“Dean! Wiggle your toes!”

“Can’t,” Dean tried to say. What came out was something like “murmpk.”

“I know it hurts, Dean, but try for me okay? You’re doing really good, just wiggle your toes for me!” He didn’t want to disappoint Rumbly, like he disappointed everyone else. He breathed. He tried to move his toes. He kept breathing.

“…come he does what you tell him, Novak? Not bothering with the rest of us. Woops, that’s not good--”

 

“I just have a way with people I guess.”

“Ha ha ha tell me another one. He tell you his last name?”

“No. But he had a lot of feelings about not coming to the hospital.”

“I can just imagine how that went.”

“He’s lucky I was home. I almost picked up extra today.”

“He has to go to the scanner. You want to go with? Or I can get you some scrubs.”

“With,” Dean said clearly. The sudden silence that followed was…weird.

“Oh-kay,” said Not-Rumbly. “Guess you’re going on a road trip, Castiel.”

“Can’t take my car,” Dean announced. “Its messed up.”

Rumbly chuckled. “Not that kind of road trip, Dean. I’m gonna take you to get a CT scan so we can see what kind of injuries you have.

Dean whimpered. “Hurts.”

“I know it does, Bud. We'll give you some medicine to make it hurt less, but I can’t make it all go away okay?”

“Kay,” Dean agreed. He kept breathing.

Through it all Rumbly was the only constant. Calm explanations followed whenever he rose to consciousness. 

(Sorry about the hard board, but the scan will be fast okay. Gonna give you medicine so we can see your organs better.)

(Sorry about the lights in your eyes, we have to make sure your brain is okay. Can you squeeze my hand.)

(I know it’s hard to breathe. You have some broken ribs and they made your lungs collapse. We have to put in a tube to get the blood out of your chest.”

(…tube in your throat to keep your breathing while you go to the OR. Your liver is bleeding and they need to fix it. You’re gonna be okay Dean. Just keep breathing.)

(just keep breathing)  
XXX

 

Dean had the sensation that time was passing. He was conscious, sort of. He could hear things happening around him, people talking, things beeping relentlessly. But he didn’t care about it. Those things were unimportant.

He slept.

On some level he was aware of other things, like being rolled back and forth. His arms were picked up and plunked back down on pillows. From time to time he was wiped down with something warm and wet that smelled good.

He was so tired.

One morning he woke up and realized that he was actually awake. He looked around. Hospital bed. Beeping monitor. A tray table next to the bed held a weird blue plastic thing. His neck was sore like there was a garden hose stuck in it. Speaking of hoses…he was pretty sure they’d stuck one in his penis. Fantastic. His right arm was in a sling and his right leg was propped up on pillows. Felt like he’d been sliced up though. Ugh. He tried to take a deep breath and it set off a coughing fit, and that made the monitor next to his bed start beeping really loudly.

 

A man entered the room and pushed a button to silence the beeping. He glanced over at Dean and then his eyes widened comically. “You’re awake!”

Dean nodded. He pointed to his throat with his left hand and grimaced. 

The man nodded. “Yes, I bet your throat hurts. They just took the tube out this morning.”

What the hell? What day was it? How long had he been here?

“Today is Sunday,” the man said as if he could read minds. “You’ve been here at University Medical Center for about a week. You hit a deer and crashed through a fence, rolled down an embankment and then into my shed.”

Dean stared.

The man quirked his lips. He glanced around and pulled the single chair in the room closer to the bed. He sat facing Dean, leaning forward with his elbow on his knees and his hands clasped.

“I found you in my backyard, managed to get you in my car and took you to this hospital. Don’t worry, it’s the best hospital in the state. I’m Castiel, by the way, in case you forgot.”

Somehow Dean thought that was a gross oversimplification. He had very vague memories of being very cold.  
“Anyway, both of your lungs were collapsed so our ER docs put in some chest tubes. They found out you had a small laceration to your liver which was bleeding quite a bit- they do that- and so you had to get a small operation to repair that injury. That’s why you had a breathing tube. Except you got a lung infection and had to stay intubated for a few days longer while the antibiotics started working.” Castiel paused. “Do you have any family we could call for you?”

Dean swallowed. “Water?” he rasped.

Castiel pursed his lips. “I’m not your nurse so I have to find out. You might get a couple ice chips first before we give you water though, since your throat is probably pretty swollen.”

“Doctor?” Dean managed.

Castiel snorted. “I’m still not a doctor, Dean. I’m an ICU nurse, and this _is_ my unit, but I’m not caring for you. Officially. Since you crashed into my shed, I’ve been sort of—” He glanced skyward for a moment. “Watching over you.” He bit his lip. “You didn’t have any family here since you got admitted as a trauma and …I thought someone should be here for you.”

Dean tried to nod, but stopped with a wince. Ow.

“So do you? Have family I should call, I mean?”

Dean mimed writing with his left hand.

Castiel pulled out his cell phone and unlocked it, swiping over to the phone screen. “You want to dial?”

Dean slowly plugged the numbers in and handed the phone back. He licked his lips with a dry tongue. “Brother.” He swallowed, trying not to cough. “Sam.”

“Got it.” He met Dean’s eyes while he waited for the call to connect. “Hello, this is Castiel Novak. I’m a nurse at the University Medical Center. Is this Dean’s brother Sam?” Castiel briefly held the phone out from his ear as the volume rose on the other end. “Well, he’s better now, Sam, but he had a bad car accident last week after hitting a deer. Yes, an actual deer.” Castiel listened intently. “He can’t talk right now because his throat is very sore from having a breathing tube. It just came out this morning.” Another long pause while Sam talked. “Two Fridays ago. He didn’t have any ID on him.” Castiel scowled. “Because he was exsanguinating at the time and the health care provider at the scene didn’t stop to root through his things for it.” 

Dean thought that Sam was doing a good job of pissing Castiel off. Dean also noticed that Castiel was very careful not to mention that he had been the person at the scene.

“His car is exactly where he left it. Yes, I’m certain.” Castiel stood up abruptly. “Dean I’m going to step outside and finish this conversation, is that all right with you?”

Dean, no idiot, carefully nodded. He closed his eyes and turned his face to the surprisingly large windows. Because of the angle of the windows only blue sky was visible, but the light felt good on his skin. As he settled, he heard snatches of conversation.

“…over a week and nobody’s been to see him.”

“Well I’ve been here.”

“…care what his last name is….the same for anyone…the last thing I want…forward to meeting you in person.”

A deep sigh from beside his bed woke Dean from his dozing. Castiel leaned back in the chair rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Okay?” Dean croaked. 

Castiel opened his eyes. They were very blue, strongly shot with red. He smiled and for some reason Dean thought it wasn’t quite right. “Better than you are I’d wager.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m going to find your nurse and ask her about the ice chips, and it’s time for your pain medicine.” He retrieved something from the wall and placed it gently on Dean’s lap in front of his left hand. “If you need anything, push the red button. This is your call bell.” He went on to explain how the TV worked. Dean thought this sounded like a canned speech he said by rote.

A few minutes later Castiel returned with a young woman. “Dean this is Hannah. She’s your nurse for the day shift.”

She had dark hair and blue eyes like Castiel. “Hi Dean. Cas tells me your throat is dry and you’re having some pain.” She smiled and shook a styrofoam cup at him. “I have some ice chips for you to try, and then I have your pain meds.” She winked at Castiel. “I’m about to become his favorite nurse.” 

Dean wanted to moan when the cool wetness hit his tongue. He closed his eyes and relaxed. This was amazing. He heard the nurses murmuring at the computer next to the bed and glanced over. Castiel met his eyes.

“I’m gonna get out of here for awhile. I’ll come back and see you another time, Dean.” He waited until Dean nodded at him, and then headed to the door.

“Cas,” Dean said.

The man turned, one hand on the doorframe. “Dean?”

Dean swallowed. “Thanks for um. Everything.”

Castiel’s face softened. “You’re very welcome. Have a good rest of the day.”

Castiel stopped at the hospital coffee shop before he headed home. He checked his phone idly and scrolled through his twitter feed while waiting. He almost never had time to watch the news or read the papers so most of his timeline was mystifying at best. _Dean Winchester Outed as Gay_. He rolled his eyes. Country music was so not his thing. Who gives a shit if some singer is gay? Who even cares these days? Apparently many people, he discovered. Poor guy, Castiel though. No wonder he’s “in hiding.”

“Hey Novak, how’s your friend doing?”

Castiel glanced over at his friend Gabe who was an emergency physician. “He woke up today,” Castiel said. “I just left the unit myself.”

Gabe whistled. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, hands deep in the pockets of his white coat. “Heard he had a nasty case of the VAP. Vanc and zosyn fix him up good? Did he end up needing a fasciotomy? I was a little worried about that leg for a while there.”

The nurse gave his order for coffee and stepped off to the side to wait. “Extubated finally, seems to be doing okay. They got his pulse back in the leg after a trip to angio, so they avoided the fasciotomy. They ended up switching to cefipime once the gram negatives in the BAL speciated out.”

Gabe clucked his tongue. “Man, he looked like dogshit when you got him here. More of his blood on you than in him.” He peered at Castiel. “You back at work yet?”

Castiel shook his head. “Not yet.”

“You want to come down to the ED, you let me know.” Gabe gave the barista his order and stepped over to wait with Castiel. “You did a good job, you know. In case nobody told you that.”

“I just did what anyone else would have done, Gabe. I’m not special.” Castiel smiled at the barista and took a sip of his latte. “See you around,” he told the doctor.

 

Castiel’s commute home was about thirty minutes. The drive often helped him decompress from long twelve hour shifts spent trying to keep people alive. He loved his job, he really did, but every so often, like now, he had to take an extended vacation. He’d been a nurse for ten years at the same hospital so he racked up a lot of vacation. Sometimes he cashed out the hours and sometimes he took five weeks off to recharge. And he really needed this time to recharge. 

His fingers flexed on the steering wheel. He was pretty good and keeping work at work. But every so often, something just got to him. He had taken a fresh post op, a minimally invasive aortic valve replacement. Old lady. Someone who wouldn’t have survived the open chest/sternotomy of the regular procedure.

He remembered how her vitals had dropped. He gave her fluid. He turned up her drips. It didn’t help. He remembered the surgeon that opened her chest at the bedside. The smell of burning flesh from the laser scalpel. He remembered the spray of blood across the room as her vena cava crumbled. He remembered the drop of blood on Dr Adler’s glasses. He remembered putting down towels on the floor because he was afraid the surgeons would slip. There was so much blood. It oozed across the floor. The ECMO machine. Climbing over people to hand equipment. Giving unit after unit of blood, and it all just kept pouring out. PEA arresting. Internal paddles. Cardiac massage. More blood. More blood. Dr Adler in the hallway talking to the family.

“She was fine! She was fine a few minutes ago, no she can’t be gone!”

Old man with tears dripping down his cheeks. His world was destroyed.

Castiel pulled over, threw the car in park, and wept.


	2. In which Sam comes to visit and Castiel finds an ID.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam comes to visit. Castiel revisits Dean's wrecked car. Deep conversations about Nursing occur.

The thing about hospitals, Dean discovered, is that time moves differently there. He was unbelievably tired but it seemed like every time he dozed off someone came into his room and woke him up. First the respiratory therapist who was a tiny lady who spoke with a VERY LOUD New York accent. Nothing but fear got him through those breathing exercises. 

Then the physical therapist --who was an aggressively cheerful woman—dragged him out of bed and made him sit in the most uncomfortable chair on the planet.

And his nurse? Every time he turned around she was taking his temperature, or making him cough (ow.) or asking him about his pain level. “Call me if you need anything!” Ugh. He didn’t know Cas very well but his voice was so much better than anyone else’s. At least he had graduated from one ice chip at a time to small sips of ice water with supervision. Did they really think he was going to choke on ice water? Jesus. And it was only…One pm? Was it still Sunday?

He glared at the TV before looking at his bed longingly. The physical therapist had been very firm about staying out of bed for two hours. He wasn’t going to make it. After surviving a terrible car wreck, he was going to die of exhaustion right in the hospital. He shifted uncomfortably. The catheter was driving him crazy and he wanted it out. He wiggled his toes experimentally. He seemed to recall at one point someone was very happy that he could do that.

Dean sighed and gingerly leaned back. The thing in his neck turned out to be a huge IV line. Every time he moved it flopped around and made the stitches pull. Hannah had already redressed it once today and it was not an experience he cared to repeat anytime soon. Scowling was also to be avoided. He had no idea how he had nearly scalped himself in the accident, but they’d told him he had a nasty ‘scalp lac’ that had required a lot of attention. They had tried to glue it shut, but eventually had just stapled it. So he was going to look like Frankenstein.

The worst thing was his right leg. The bones at his ankle had both broken (tib-fib fracture) and there was so much swelling the doctors had nearly had to cut his calf open to relieve the pressure. They had opted to make a really small incision and put a drain in. The drain looked like a hand grenade and was currently stuffed into his sock for safekeeping. Once the swelling went down in about four weeks(!) he would have to have another surgery to fix it for real. He carefully did not move his leg from its assigned place on the footstool, with extra pillows. These nurses. Did not fuck around.

Like magic, his nurse Hannah appeared. “Hi Dean, just checking on you. You doing okay?”

“I’m really tired,” Dean started, and to his horror, his eyes filled up with tears. He covered his face with his good hand and tried to turn away.

Hannah came closer and rubbed the back of his head carefully. “Oh sweetheart, I know everything is terrible right now. You are so strong! You’re gonna get through this.”

“I’m not strong,” Dean said wetly, still looking away.

“Dean, listen to me. You have been through something that might’ve killed you. Your body is fighting a war right now. You’re recovering from multiple surgeries, and broken bones, _and_ pneumonia!” She touched his chin and made him look at her. “It is _normal_ to feel this way,” she said gently. “Lots of patients go through it. You’re not alone.”

“My own brother didn’t even come to see me!”

“From what I understand, your brother was a hot mess looking for you all over this state. Castiel said that he gave him the third degree! And,” she continued, “I’m pretty sure that he’ll be here before you know it. And won’t he be so proud to see you sitting up out of bed? I’ll make sure he knows how difficult it is after what you’ve been through.” Hannah seemed to produce a box of tissue from thin air. “There you go, wipe your face off, you’re okay, honey.”

He sniffed, still embarrassed. “I feel like a moron.” 

“Everyone cries Dean. Everyone.” Hannah squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll check in real soon, but-”

“I’ll call you if I need you,” Dean finished for her, managing a weak smile. 

It turned out, after a dose of pain medicine and some jello, Dean did actually feel a bit better. He felt pathetically grateful for the reduction in pain. The teeny little bit of food went a long way toward helping his nausea. Turns out, you can get nauseous from being really hungry. Who knew?

“Hey Dean,” A familiar voice said. Sam was here. The big moose stared at him forever before he came closer probably angling for a hug. “I am so glad you’re okay! You scared me to death you jerk!”

Dean extended his left arm, showing Sam the left side was for hugging. He got a half hug from the moose, then pointed to the chair next to the window. All day long when Hannah swept into the room she moved things around until everything was just _so_. Apparently, ICU nurses were like super-duper anal. 

Dean could see that Sam was gearing up to address the elephant in the room. “No, Sam, we’re not talking about it. That is off limits.”

He watched as Sam’s forehead wrinkled all up and he brought his puppy eyes out. 

“Just…not today, Sam. I already had like a mini breakdown, I’m not in the mood for another. I just want to get better and get out of here.”

Sam licked his lips and proceeded to examine his shoes for a long moment. “Okay, Dean. Whatever you need.”

The two men sat in silence for a few minutes before Sam tried again. “So, Castiel.”

Dean groaned.

“He seemed very knowledgeable about what happened. How is he so sure about your car? Did he talk to the guy whose house you crashed into?”

 _Kill me now_ , Dean thought. _This should not be this awkward._ “He um. He _is_ the guy whose house I crashed into. His shed at least.” He tilted his head back as far as it would go between the IV in his neck and the world’s most uncomfortable chair.

Sam appeared to be stunned. “You hit a deer and crashed into his shed?” His voice rose until it approached octaves not normally used.

“No, Sammy. I hit a fucking deer, went over the god-damned mountainside, through a fence, rolled over like a million times and THEN crashed into his shed. The guy found me in his yard, practically bleeding to death.” He pointed at the staples in his head. “Then he had to calm my ass down cause I literally could not breathe because my ribs were cracked and punctured my lungs, and physically lifted me out of my car and drove me to the hospital.” The monitor above his bed went off, alarming with a loud set of triple beeps.

“Is everything all right in here?” Hannah asked from the doorway, glaring at Sam as if she was about to smite him on principle. “Dean, are you okay?” She pressed a button on the wall and silenced the monitor.

“I’m good, Hannah, I was just telling Sam here how Cas and I met.”

She nodded. “Uh-huh. Castiel saved his life you know,” she told Sam. “He’s real lucky he had an angel watching over him that night you know.”

Sam nodded. “I mean what are the chances that you just happen to crash into a guy’s yard who just happens to be an ICU nurse right?”

“Dude, it’s not just that. He…he stayed with me, and explained everything.” Dean shook his head very slightly. “He made me believe I was gonna be okay.”

 

XXX

 

Castiel felt much better after a napping a few hours. He took a shower, and after donning his most comfortable t-shirt and sweats, decided to take a look in the back. The least he could do is bring Dean his ID and wallet.   
The black monstrosity was exactly where he’d last seen it. Crumpled half in his shed. He had hired a mason to fix the brickwork a couple years ago when the mortar had started crumbling. He hoped idly that he had that guys number somewhere. Castiel walked around the vehicle slowly. He spent a long time looking at the driver’s door laying on the ground. He truly did not remember doing that. He remembered jiggling the handle and that the door was stuck. He remembered thinking this man is going to die because I can’t open his car door. And then he just…pulled it off.

That brought him to the other thing. Simple body mechanics got Dean with his legs out of the car. But Dean was a big guy, taller than himself. How in the hell had he deadlifted him out of his car? Castiel took a step back, looking at the tire tracks from his Ford Escape. He could even see his own footprints in the dried mud.

Shattered glass littered the interior. He leaned over and peered under the steering column. The part of the car where the gas pedal used to be was just…destroyed. The keys were even still sitting in the ignition. Castiel removed them, tucking them into his pocket for safekeeping. He retrieved an old towel from the shed and used it to sweep the glass off the bench seat. He carefully got in and looked around on the floorboards. He spied a small dark green backpack peeking out from under the passenger side. He leaned over the front seat and briefly did a visual check of the back in case there was anything potentially valuable there.

He probably should have called the cops and filed a police report but…honestly it just felt like a lot of work, okay? So sue him. Dean would have to deal with his insurance company eventually. Castiel opened the glovebox. He found a laminated insurance card as well as a tire air gauge, one of those doodads to break glass in case of emergency and a couple of little green army guys. He used his phone to take a picture of the insurance card, then stuffed everything in there and closed the glovebox.

His phone buzzed as he was about to tuck it away. 

Hannah:  
He likes you.

He stared at his phone, unsure of how to respond. He finally opted for the thumbs up emoji and then locked the screen.

Back in the house, Castiel put the kettle on the stove to heat. He sat down at the small kitchen table to wait. And think. He had spent a couple of nights sitting with Dean at the hospital. Not that Dean knew that. It was just…Dean had been so anxious whenever he’d left. Castiel’s contact info was the only one in the computer system since Cas had brought him in.

Mechanically, he poured the hot water into his waiting mug. Darjeeling. He added some honey. He always did his best thinking with a cup of tea.

The ICU nurses were aware that Castiel was listed as Dean’s emergency contact. So when Dean got agitated at night, or pulled his breathing tube out accidentally, they called Castiel. Naturally, he couldn’t just sit at home knowing that Dean had self-extubated! Most patients did better if someone stayed with them overnight. He worked a lot of nights and didn’t mind staying up. Castiel always left the room when Dean had needed to be cleaned up or for any procedures. He tried so hard to do the right thing ethically. But sometimes it was really hard to know what the right thing was. Since he was there when the physicians rounded at five AM, they all updated him on Dean’s status and plan for the day. No one else showed up to claim Dean, so to speak. Castiel felt very firmly that every patient needed an advocate in the hospital. He had seen that first hand. Finally he had just accepted that for now, he was Dean’s person.

He hadn’t meant to get so defensive with Dean’s brother, he truly hadn’t. But he kept thinking, where the hell were you? You didn’t notice your brother went missing for over a week? Didn’t bother to call around to the hospitals? Castiel forced himself to relax. Took some deep breaths. Really, he was just glad that he was in a position to help when help was needed. Lots of nurses had this same problem. _As a group, we like to be needed._

If Dean needed him again he would be there.

 

XXX

 

Dean couldn’t sleep. All day he’d been dying for a nap and now that it was quiet and the lights were dimmed he was just…lying here listening to the distant beep of monitors from the nursing station. Apparently, they did something at night, turned the beeping off in the patient rooms or something (how in the world did he know this?) to try and help patients sleep more. Well, he wished it worked a little better, he thought grumpily.

He thought about calling for the nurse but…the night nurse wasn’t as awesome as Hannah. Did he really want a stranger to come in to make him feel better? The sliding glass door to his room opened, and Dean wondered if all the nurses were psychic or just his. They all seemed to have a weird sixth sense about when he needed something, even if it was just to talk.

“Hello, Dean. I’m surprised to see you awake. I know you’ve had a busy day.”

“Cas? Not that I’m not happy to see you, but it’s kinda late for a visit don’t you think.”

The dark-haired man pressed his lips together. “No, you’re totally right, I should—”

“I mean, you can stay,” Dean said quickly. He tried to raise his right arm out of habit, and froze with a wince. “I can’t sleep.”

Castiel rocked back on his heels. “Do you need something to help you sleep? I can ask your nurse for you?”

Dean blinked. “They give out sleeping pills here?”

Cas chuckled. “Um, yeah, otherwise nobody in this place would get a wink. Let me check in with your night nurse. Be right back.” 

How did this guy always seem to know what he needed, Dean wondered. Save my life, great but the fact he sticks around and hangs out with me in the hospital…Dean knew he should probably find it…weird…but mostly it felt…kinda good.

The doors slid back as Castiel returned. He retrieved the chair from next to the window and brought it around next to the bed.

“You know,” Dean said slowly. “I don’t think I ever realized what nurses really do before I had the accident.”

Castiel smiled, showing a row of white even teeth. He nodded. “You’re right. There is still a perception that we’re like the physician’s handmaidens. But it’s your nurse who is in here with you all day, watching you for subtle changes, making sure you’re getting better, managing your pain and trying to keep you comfortable. The doctors are great, but they only spend a few minutes a day actually _with_ patients.”

 

Dean suddenly found his fingers very fascinating. “Thing is, I’m not a guy that goes around talking about feelings, you know? This morning, after you left, I just like, got upset over nothing really. Hannah made me feel like it was no big deal that it was normal.”

“That’s good Dean, really. Because it really is so normal for people to get overwhelmed in this environment.” He rested one hand on Dean’s bed. “It’s like, you take a normal person, you give them a life-threatening condition or illness and completely mess up their sleep schedule while giving them a bunch of new meds. And this—” He gestured around at the room. ‘It’s a completely abnormal environment. So your reaction-being overwhelmed,” he smiled gently, “is very, very, normal.

Dean found himself nodding. “I just…I don’t have conversations like this in my normal life, man.”

“Oh, nobody does. Sometimes I’ll be talking to one of my friends and I’m like, I literally cannot believe I just said those words.”

“Like what, give me an example.” Dean said, tapping the fingers on his right hand against the covers.

“Oh, like, I said one time, every time I stand the patient up he dies a little.”

“What?!”

“Don’t be like that. So, after open heart surgery—”

“You guys do open heart surgery?”

“Well, I don’t DO the surgery, but our docs do, yes—”

“That is so cool,” Dean exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Castiel agreed. “So, after open heart patients have really unstable blood pressures. There’s lots of fluid shifts and stuff. So sometimes when you stand the person up for the first time the next day, they tank their pressure and might faint.”

“Holy shit.” Dean said.

“What?”

“Really?” 

“What really, Dean?” Castiel asked, leaning forward. 

“You are so smart,” Dean said. “How do you know all this?”

Castiel laughed out loud. “Because it’s my job. Because I studied a lot in school and I study a lot even now. Because if I don’t know all this stuff…” he sobered. “I have to know it, Dean, because someone might die if I don’t.” He looked down.

Dean sat for a few minutes just absorbing the conversation. All he did was sing songs. That was nothing. Castiel, Hannah…they actually make a difference to people.

“I um, I didn’t mean to bring you down,” Castiel started.

“No, no, you’re fine. I was just thinking that what I do is so pointless compared to what you do.”

Frowning, Castiel said, “I’m not better than anyone else. I just have a different skillset. I wasn’t born knowing any of this—”

“But you took the time to learn it—”

“I guess, I wanted to help people. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Dean asked. “Do you have any idea what I do, Cas?”

“No, I literally have no idea,” Castiel responded easily.

“I’m a singer. And I’m okay, I guess, but there are a ton of people that sing way better than I do, and when I went for my drive the other day, I was like, it doesn’t matter if I come back at all. A lot of the accident is foggy as hell but there’s some things I remember clear as day.” Dean took a deep breath because he could sort of do that. “I remember every time I was terrified about something, you were there.”

Castiel just continued to maintain eye contact, as if this was the most important conversation of his life.

“I remember too many people talking, but I kept hearing you telling me to move my toes. And I couldn’t disappoint you. I had to make them move no matter what. I remember a cold hallway and a hard board and a weird tunnel thing that made scary noise—”

“The CT scanner,” Castiel murmured without looking away.

“—And you were there. I remember when they shoved those tubes in my sides, you were there, telling me what was happening. I remember—” Dean’s voice broke a little. He swallowed. “I remember you kept saying, ‘just keep breathing’ and there were times, I really, really, wanted to not take that next breath. But your voice man, your voice would be in my head ‘just keep breathing’, and so I kept doing it. And you were there.” He wanted to reach out so bad right now, he needed—

Castiel leaned over and reached for his left hand. Dean held on and squeezed.


	3. Dean asks for a favor; Cas has an anxiety attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean faces some realities about his injuries and his post-hospital needs. Castiel struggles with his PTSD and ethical nursing issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In reality, a patient with the kind of injuries Dean has would be sent to the step down unit after the breathing tube came out. The ICU really isn't the best place to recover. Moreover, Dean should absolutely go to rehab to get some strength back.
> 
> Boundary issues for nurses are tricky. It is absolutely NOT OKAY to be involved with a patient under your care. Castiel is a damn good nurse which is why he is super concerned about it. I am not an expert on ethical issues in the medical field but I did want to touch on it here.

Hannah:  
He’s cranky today

Castiel:  
What’s wrong?

Hannah:  
Not sure. Fighting c bro re dispo

Hannah:  
S wants D to go home to Kansas c him

Hannah:  
D: hell no

Castiel:  
Did he say why?

Hannah:  
MSW went in to see this morning.

Hannah:  
D booted her

Castiel:  
SERIOUSLY?

Hannah:  
Yes. She told D he cant stay by himself after dc

Castiel:  
Yeah duh

Hannah  
Duh for you and me

Hannah:  
D was floored

Unknown number:  
Cas this is Dean.

To Hannah:  
He’s texting me now!

Hannah:  
D?

To Hannah:  
Y

Unknown number:  
Dude. Don b mad got yr nmbr from soc wk

Unknown number:  
U my emerg contact

Unknown number:  
Is emerg. Not dyin emerg

To Unknown:  
Can I call you Dean?

Unknown number:  
Pls

To Hannah:  
Ttyl

Castiel couldn’t help pacing through the house while his phone went nuts with notifications. Between Hannah and Dean they scrolled in almost faster than he can read them. He did some deep breaths and then called.

“Hey Cas.”

“What’s wrong Dean? Are you all right?” Do you need me?” 

“Hey man, I’m okay, I mean as okay as I can be with this situation, but like, I need a favor, and I know I have no right to ask you for anything because I mean, you’ve already saved my life—”

“Dean.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Okay, long story short: can I crash with you for a couple of weeks?”

Castiel’s brain rebooted because that is not anything like what he expected to hear. 

“Cas?” Dean said anxiously, “Did I break you?”

“Dean, I’m not saying no,” Castiel started carefully, “But let’s talk this through some more. I know you have a supportive family—”

“A supportive moose you mean—”

“Look, in the interest of saving time let’s cut to the chase. One would expect you to stay with your brother. What makes me a better option than him?” Castiel really can’t believe he just said those words. He wondered if he was coming over as much more confident than he actually is.

He heard Dean breathing deeply. “Sam lives in Kansas.”

Castiel prodded, “Okay? And?”

“And I’m not ready to leave Virginia yet, all right?” Dean sounded like the confession was wrung from him. Castiel wondered what his monitors showed during this conversation. Tachycardia? Tachypnea?

“And you want me to…take care of you?” 

“No, no, no. Nothing like that. I can pretty much do for myself most stuff. I mean I’ll need stupid help like with buttons or, no it’s just…”

Castiel thought Dean sounded like a man poised on the edge of a cliff.

“…I know we haven’t known each other for that long, I know that, okay? But you make me feel—”

Castiel sat down heavily at the table. He gripped the phone a little tighter. “Dean? How do I--?” 

“I never feel more like myself than when I’m with you, Cas. I—you, it’s just, I like…being around you. And it’s not because you’re an awesome nurse, even though you totally are, you are an awesome YOU and I…” Dean hesitated. “I don’t want to lose that.”

“Dean…”

“Am I crazy? Tell me I’m not crazy, Cas.”

“You’re not crazy,” Castiel said softly.

“Cas. Tell me…tell me I’m not the only one who feels like this. If it’s true…”

“Dean, you’re…Do you think I come in and hang with every man I rescue?”

“God, I hope not. I hope I’m the only one.” Dean told him.

“I have something to tell you, Dean.”

“What’s that, Cas?”

“I may have ripped your car door off the hinges before I pulled you out of it.” Castiel rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans. “I went out the other day and looked and the car door was on the ground. It…I tried the handle and it just wouldn’t open. So I stood there and I thought, please God, don’t let me fail, and then I just pulled the door off like it was easy.”

“Cas. I really wish you were here right now.”

“Me too, Dean. Me too.” He can hear Dean’s breathing coming quick and shallow. This is…this is almost too much. A few weeks ago Castiel didn’t even know that Dean existed, and now he is important, he is essential to Castiel. He couldn’t bear imagining a world that they never met, or a world that he slept through the great crash in his back yard, or a world where the door was stuck and never opened. That…is an image too horrible to consider. “Dean, talk to me. Just…I need to hear your voice.”

“Ah, you got it. Just talk? I can do that. Did I tell you the nurse took me outside today? Yeah. They had me sit in the world’s most uncomfortable chair—”

Castiel smiled in spite of himself. “The stryker chair you mean.”

“Whatever it is, it sucks, dude. So they gather a fuckton of equipment and I’m just sitting on the bed with my leg propped like why does it take four people for me to get ready to roll outside for five minutes—”

“Because you need continuous monitoring—”

“I don’t actually, and how do you like that? The docs want to kick me out of the ICU, but the other docs are like ‘Nope, no way, he’s too much work for a nurse with four other patients’, like come on I’m not THAT much work—”

“You are a little demanding,” Castiel teased him.

“I’m adorable is what I am,” Dean retorted. “But to get back to my story, before I was interrupted, they pack me up in this chair. And wheel me all through the hospital, like no joke, they were taking the scenic route man, went right past the cafeteria and everything, and guess what?”

“What,” Castiel said, expectantly.

“They bought me _pie_. They said it was made from local apples too. Are local apples a thing around here?”

“Oh definitely,” Castiel responded. “There is a really good orchard not far from me, maybe—” He stopped himself. _Because maybe we could go sometime sounds like something you’d say to your boyfriend, and that is a whole different can of worms. Big fat ones too. Nurses cannot date their patients._

“Cas.”

But is Dean Castiel’s patient? He has never cared for him professionally. He was very careful to try and maintain some boundaries. He has no idea of Dean’s past medical or surgical history. He does have a very good idea of what medications he is currently on—

“Cas, are you there? What happened?”

He watched as they cut his clothes off, and put IV lines in. Hell, Castiel even took him to CT, while he wasn’t even clocked in! He’s been spending all this time fraternizing with a patient—

Dean’s voice breaches his thoughts. “—deep breaths, Cas, I can hear you and you sound like me on a bad day. Gotta slow down and take some nice deep breaths okay?”

Castiel closed his eyes. He forced himself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

“That’s really awesome buddy, you’re doing great. You a little better now, Cas? Talk to me.”

“Dean, I’m. So sorry. My…anxiety got a hold of me and I think I may have had a small panic attack. You…you helped me get through it. How did you know all those right things to say?”

“Dude. Are you even kidding me right now?” Dean sounded incredulous. “Who do you think I learned it from?”

 

XXX

 

Cas sounded better now, at least Dean didn’t hear his breathing over the phone anymore. His mind was just blown by Cas wondering how he knew the right things to say? Didn’t he ever hear himself? He’d only been showing Dean what to do by thought and deed with every interaction right from the start.

They hung up shortly after that, and Dean tried to make himself comfortable. He was lying in bed, as fully dressed as he could be in a button up shirt with the right sleeve partially cut away and the right leg of his jeans cut off below the knee to fit his immobilizer. Truthfully, wearing clothes in the ICU was a pain in the ass for both Dean and the nursing staff, but he needed something to be at least a little normal. He’d been in the hospital for three weeks at this point, almost four.

He was definitely at the point where he didn’t need the ICU and he wasn’t quite sure why he was still in here. According to the social worker, he should have been sent out ‘to the floor’ last week or when every he stabilized after the breathing tube came out. Dean had a vague suspicion that Sam might’ve pulled some strings to keep him here.

Dean hadn’t asked about the status of his singing career and Sam hadn’t volunteered any information, so Dean figured that was telling enough. Dean deliberately had been avoiding newspapers, magazines and websites. Castiel had brought him some magazines from home which was very thoughtful in theory. But-Dean side eyed the stack of magazines on the windowsill- _Critical Care Nursing_ was above his pay grade because he only understood every third word. Same for _The New England Journal_ and _Virginia Nursing_. _Car and Driver_ Dean could get behind except reading for any length of time made his head hurt like crazy. Must be that pesky concussion syndrome, he thought. 

It left him with a lot of time to think. Especially about stuff he normally avoided like the plague. Stuff like his empty house back in Kansas or the fact that he actually hated performing in front of huge stadium crowds. Some people got off on that kind of thing but Dean much preferred singing small gigs. Things he never got to do anymore.

Just like, according to the record company, they didn’t want him seeing guys because ‘most of his appeal was for single women.’ Dean had tried he really had but he couldn’t help being who he was. He’d only been trying to fight it his whole life. He’d been so discreet with Aaron but everyone had a cell phone these days and it’s easy to go viral from a short clip. 

Sometimes Dean wondered if the hospital people knew who he really was. Cas had mentioned a few days ago that he was listed in the computer as Trauma Male Macaw. Standard, he’d said, because he had to have a name in the computer system and a lot of trauma patients came in before anyone knew their name, like Dean. Although he was lucky since he’d given his name to Cas at the scene. Apparently, it made it easier for unconscious patients to respond if they were called by their first name. Familiar. 

Point was, he wondered if it would have changed the way the nurses treated him. After giving it some thought, he decided it didn’t matter. Everyone was pretty awesome, and it was hard to imagine his nurses being _more_ awesome.

That brought his mind back around to the call he’d just had with Castiel. The social worker lady had kind of freaked him out by suggesting he needed to go to rehab! ‘You won’t be able to care for yourself safely and you’ll need people around you to help out with ADLs’.

Whatever. He certainly was not going to ask Sam to wipe his ass for him, and he didn’t want strangers doing it either. Besides. He was getting better with his left hand. Not with writing, that was for sure, but he could feed himself, and clean himself up, sort of. At least with the piece of crap razors the nurses let him use he hadn’t sliced his face up anymore than it was.

Sometimes he wondered if the hospital had weirdly become like a safe space for him. Cocooned in this wacked out place where monitors beeped 24/7, sometimes people screamed and yelled in the middle of the night, and he overheard basically everything at the nurses station. He didn’t think the nurses were used to having a patient who was awake and aware and holy hell he did not need to know how fucked up the guy down the hall was, or that the other lady had just bled out. Still. It made him feel like he was almost a member of a hidden community.

He knew that sometimes nurses cried at the desk after a patient was nasty to them. He knew that if you pissed off one nurse, all of them would be pissed. He knew that nurses went toe to toe with doctors about patient care. He knew that most nurses lived on diet coke, graham crackers and peanut butter. Which reminder- he knew that you can never go wrong by ordering food for the nursing staff.

He remembered after getting the catheter out he’d accidentally pissed all over himself. Filled with shame, he’d asked the nurses for help. They’d cheerfully told him not to worry about anything, this was all normal, it happened to a lot of guys after catheter removal because things were swollen down there, and mostly that it would get better. It was humbling, he realized, to be an able-bodied man in the prime of his life and suddenly need help with the bathroom.

Dean was getting better though. His clavicle was healing well according to the x-rays and he could start therapy on it soon. His right ankle-elevated on pillows whether he wanted it there or not-was nearly normal sized, if still varying colors. The purple bruising extended all the way up to his toes. He could pee and poop (which made the nurses weirdly happy for some reason) and the staples in his head were gone.

His appetite wasn’t great, though, and he’d lost a lot of weight. He normally went about 195 and as of this morning he was topping off at 170. He knew this because the night nurses used the bed scale to get his weight every morning. Once he’d cracked 175, a nutritionist had appeared with lots of papers and pamphlets and talked for a long time about protein intake and caloric needs. Turns out you needed a lot of protein for healing and they thought Dean wasn’t eating enough. So at every meal they brought him supplements in cans, which he mostly left on the tray. 

He glared at the can of Ensure on his tray table. He carefully picked it up with his left hand and shook it carefully. He pried the tab up, and forced himself to take a drink. It was disgusting. He gave it a long look, sighed, and took another drink. He would do whatever it took to heal up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's ethics concerns resurface. Dean and Cas hang out. Domestic stuff happens!

Over the next couple of days, Dean’s discharge plans took shape. After more discussions with Castiel and, at his insistence, with Sam, Cas agreed to let Dean stay with him for a few weeks. It did actually make sense for some reasons. The orthopedic specialists that had worked on Dean preferred him to stay in state in case of any complications. The University Medical Center had an outpatient rehab center close to the hospital that Sam agreed to drive Dean to three times a week. Sam was renting an AirBNB apartment a few towns over, and planned to spend time with Dean, and doing his own thing.

Castiel’s house was a single level ranch with wide door frames and large bathrooms. Castiel sometimes wondered if an older couple had upgraded those things expecting to be needing wheelchairs. At any rate, he was glad for it now because Dean would need a wheelchair to get around. The fractured clavicle was healing well but crutches were impossible at present.

Castiel had been very upfront about his concerns about boundary issues, as well as the fact that he’d need to go back to work in another week. He needed to know that Dean understood that when Cas worked three days in a row he literally did nothing but sleep and eat between shifts. He had strongly encouraged Sam to stay local for that reason. He did not want to be the only person supporting Dean through this recovery. That, he had said, would be unwise as well as unethical.

Privately, Castiel had sat down with Dean to air his gravest concerns.

XXX

“This is going to be an awkward conversation, Dean, but I think we need to have it. Is now a good time?” Castiel hovered in the doorway of the ICU room.

Dean clicked off the TV and motioned him over to the chair by the bed. “What’s up?”

Castiel pulled the glass door closed. He sat down facing Dean. He bit his lip, hesitating. Finally, gathered himself and said, “I like you Dean.” His blue eyes met Dean’s green ones.

Smiling, Dean said, “Okay awesome. I thought you were about to say something terrible from the look on your face. I like you too, by the way.”

Castiel’s cheeks pinkened. He rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I think about things…that are not appropriate for a nurse to be thinking about a patient.”

“Uh huh. You get that you’re not my nurse, right?” Dean asked. He waited a beat then added in a low voice, “Um. I think about that stuff too, man.” He watched Castiel’s chest rise and fall with a deep breath.

Castiel fidgeted. “I know I’m not your nurse. But the thing is that I know things about you, that I wouldn’t know, if I didn’t work here. And because I have more knowledge about this stuff than you do, it puts me in a position of power—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Pump the brakes.”

“I refuse to take advantage of you Dean.” Castiel said firmly. “Whether you think I am or not isn’t the point.”

“No, that IS the point, Cas. You know things about me, yes, because you saved my life. You were here for me when I was in the emergency room to help keep saving my life. You stayed with me while I was unconscious to help keep me safe in the hospital. I know this, man.” 

Castiel looked away.

“Okay,” Dean said, tapping his fingers on the sheets. “Let’s break this down. Tell me what you think of when you say ‘boundary issues.’ Like legit-first thing that comes to mind.”

Leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest, Castiel looked skyward. He said to the ceiling, “I think about nurses who date nothing but drug addicts and alcoholics because they need to be needed. I think about nurses who do home health care and fall ‘in love’ with their patients. I think about nurses who give everything to people but get nothing back.”

Dean pressed his lips together while he let those comments settle. “My turn, okay? A- I drink, I won’t deny that. I don’t do drugs though. Not even pot. B-Home health people, those patients are like really jacked up right? They can’t leave the house?” He waited for Castiel answering nod. “Great. I’m not gonna be trapped in a house, man.” He shook his phone. “There’s this thing called Uber. Or Lyft. I know how to use the app store, promise.” 

“Cas. Look at me.” 

He did. Dean wished those blue eyes weren’t so sad.

“C. Maybe you will fall in love with me. Maybe I’ll fall in love with you. I can’t know what’s gonna happen tomorrow or next week. Last month I thought I would be in Canada right now. I never expected to wreck my car, I never expected to almost die in butt-fuck Virginia, and I never expected _you_.” Dean leaned forward, stretching out his left hand. He wiggled his fingers at Castiel until he took Dean’s hand. “You’re not my nurse, don’t you see Cas? You’re my friend, who happens to _be_ a nurse.

“Dean, I don’t…” Castiel’s voice broke a little. He looked away and swallowed. “I don’t know if you’ll like me as much once you get out of here. I don’t want you to be stuck with me while-”

“Wow, you are really feeling down today, huh.” Dean said sympathetically.

Castiel looked up, startled. Slowly he nodded.

Dean patted the left side of the bed “C’mere. You desperately need a one-armed hug.” He held his arm out, waiting.

Laughing a little, Castiel got up and walked around the bed before perching on the other side.

“Closer, you dope, I can’t reach you over there.”

Cas scooted closer. Dean took a moment to breath in his scent. Clean, so clean. Carefully, Dean reached around Castiel until he gripped the other man’s shoulder and tugged him close. He rubbed his thumb reassuringly over Castiel’s arm. Dean rested his chin on Castiel’s head, now tucked between his shoulder and neck. “See? Better, right?”

Dean felt rather than saw Cas take a big breath and slowly let it out. Castiel took his good hand and squeezed it before threading their fingers together.

“Yes, Dean, you’re right, this is better.”

XXX

 

The front of the hospital was mostly glass, and so the lobby was really, really bright. Dean squinted against the sun. Bright light still gave him a headache. He was the proud owner of this fold up wheelchair he was sitting in. Sam had accompanied him as he was discharged from the ICU. One of the transporter staff had wheeled him down here, but now he was just waiting for Castiel to pull his car around. Parking was a bitch here.

After a few minutes, Dean saw a silver SUV pull up, and then a familiar dark haired man got out. He truly appreciated the view. Cas was smoking hot, and didn’t seem to have a clue about it. His jeans were tight across the thighs and yeah. Dean definitely wanted to see more of that.

Cas greeted Dean and Sam. “Sam, you have the directions I sent you?”

The tall man smiled easily. “Yeah, sure do.” He looked down at Dean. “You ready to get out of here?”

Dean snorted. “Oh, hell yeah. Cas, ready?”

Cas pulled the passenger door open in answer. Sam wheeled Dean as close as he could and then set the brakes on the chair. 

Sam eyed the front seat. “How in the world did you even get him in your car, man?”

“That is a very good question, Sam. I suppose there was so much adrenaline—”

“Epinephrine is not just for heart patients, right Cas?” Dean waggled his eyebrows. 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Okay Dean, this is—”

“Probably gonna suck for me, yeah heard that song before, buddy.”

Using Sam as a support, Dean stood up on his good left leg. He had to hop unsteadily closer but was able to hitch his butt up on the seat. He winced as Cas helped lift his right leg into the car. He caught the look he exchanged with Sam and said, “Fine, I’m fine, it’s just a little sore.”

Castiel arched an eyebrow at him. Dean buckled his seat belt. Sam nodded at him, closed the door for him and tapped the roof twice before turning on his heel to go find his own car.

Once Cas got settled in and buckled up he leaned over and pulled a pair of sunglasses out of the glovebox. “Here, put these on. I see you squinting.”

With a relieved sigh, Dean did. “That’s a lot better, thanks.”

They drove through Charlottesville for a short time before hitting the highway towards Crozet. They talked easily through the drive, mostly about music. Dean talked about his favorite rock bands, and Cas explained that he didn’t keep up with modern music. Like, at all.

“Wait, wait, wait. So, you don’t listen to the radio?” Dean asked incredulously.

“No,” Castiel said. “I usually listen to NPR on the way to work. Or books on CD.”

“Wow,” Dean shook his head. “I’m gonna have to school you on everything from Elvis to Taylor Swift.”

Castiel groaned. “Dean, that sounds like a threat to me. Friends don’t threaten other friends.”

“In this case it’s justified, although I can think of some positives for me about it.”

“Really? What are they?” Castiel asked.

“Hmm. I think…I will keep that to myself right now, actually.”

The roads were smooth, but once they got off the highway, very narrow and twisty. “Ugh,” Dean said. “I think I’ve been lost here before.”

“Well, unlike you I will approach my house from the front, and not try to sneak in the back door.”

Dean stared at him, until Castiel blushed. “That…came out wrong.”

“On the contrary,” Dean laughed. “I think it came out so, so right.”

“Assbutt.”

Now Dean laughed harder. “What the hell is an assbutt?”

Castiel tried not to grin and failed miserably. “You’re an assbutt, so there.”

Dean stuck his tongue out. 

Once they parked in front of Castiel’s cute little brick house, Dean looked with trepidation at the few stairs. “Um, I have a question?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“How am I getting up there, Cas?”

Castiel smiled so big his nose crinkled and Dean saw all of his teeth. Adorable. “This is your problem, Dean. You have no _faith_ ".

Dean was not expecting to be dragged up the stairs backwards in his wheelchair. Which was way more nerve wracking that he would have expected. But the door was nice and wide and Cas rolled him in without difficulty. 

Cas gave him what he referred to as ‘the rolling tour’. The house was one level, and all hardwood. Dean had already promised to keep using the hospital gripper socks on his good foot for safety purposes. The guest bedroom and master bedroom were across from each other, and each had their own bathroom.

Dean groaned when he saw a bedside commode in his ‘room’. “I hate those things.”

“I know, Dean.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t think about this before I asked if I could stay with you.”

Castiel shrugged. “It’s okay. I did. Honestly, it’s not a big deal—”

“Actually, it kind of is—”

“It’s not too late to make other arrangements if it bothers you this much.”

Dean balked at that suggestion. He liked it here. He liked the warm open feel, and the dark hardwood and the comfy looking couches. He liked knowing that Cas was only a room away. Cas interrupted his racing thoughts by crouching down in front of him.

“Do you think I didn’t realize what this would entail? That I somehow forgot about your broken leg and clavicle? Or the post-concussion headaches? Look, most of the time I think we’ll be able to get you in the bathroom to do your thing. But. There’s going to be days when I’m at work, and I want you to be able to relieve yourself _safely_. 

Dean stared at his lap morosely until Castiel tapped him on the left knee to get his attention. “If it makes you feel any better, I truly don’t mind. I’d rather do that than suction a trach. Secretions.” He shuddered dramatically. “That’s gross. Shit is fine.”

Dean still felt embarrassed. “I’m really glad I didn’t need a trach, then.”

Castiel threw his head back and laughed. “Me too.”

Dean’s phone buzzed, and he checked it. “Sam just pulled up.”

“Let’s go show him around.”

 

XXX

They were sitting on Castiel’s comfy blue couch in the living room. Sam and Cas had paper plates on their laps while Dean used ceramic since he was short an arm and leg. Bottles of beer sat on the wooden table front of the couch. It was old fashioned and heavy. The bottom storage spaces overflowed with nursing journals. A large bookcase was built into the east wall, and it was jammed with textbooks of all sizes. The living room opened into a formal dining area. The kitchen itself was nice and open as well. Cas was lucky to have a double oven gas stove. Dean was pretty jealous about it.

“When do you go back to work,” Sam asked Cas over pizza that night.

Cas finished chewing. “Hmm. I go back Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Day shift.”

“Sammy, you gonna hang out with me those days?” Dean said around a large mouthful of crust.

“That’s gross Dean, and if you choke I’m not giving you the Heimlich,” Castiel told him.

Laughing, Sam nodded. “Yeah, Dean, GROSS. I’ve only been telling you for years.”

Dean just rolled his eyes. He gestured at Cas with his slice. “Come on. You think he could resist saving me? He didn’t pull me out of a car wreck just to let me die from pizza.”

Cas mouthed ASSBUTT clearly, and Dean gave up trying to be serious, cracking up.

“Yes, Dean,” Sam continued eventually. “I stopped by the stores yesterday and picked up some books I thought you might like, and a bunch of movies too.”  
“That’s real nice Sammy, but I can’t promise I’ll be able to read that much. Specially if the print is small. Headaches,” he added when Sam looked confused.

“Is that normal, Cas?” Sam asked.

“Gabe, my friend, thinks that Dean concussed himself in the accident. Post-concussion syndrome is pretty common after head trauma. I’ve noticed Dean is sensitive to bright lights, and focused concentration like reading makes his headaches worse.”

“They have me on something for that, right, Cas?” Dean prodded the nurse with his elbow.

“That’s right. Do you remember which medicine it is?” Castiel arched an eyebrow at Dean.

Shaking his head, Dean said, “Hey man I didn’t know there was going to be a quiz.” He finished his crust and thought about it. “Nor…noratrip….” He looked at Cas. 

“Elevil,” they finished together.

Sam blinked. “Okay, wow guys.” He looked over to Castiel. “You’ve been teaching Dean about his medications?”

Dean hid a smile. Cas squinted at Sam, like he couldn’t believe Sam had said something so dumb.

“Of course, I am.” Castiel sounded offended.

“It’s just that Dean—”

Castiel wiped his mouth. “I really hope you’re not about to tell me that Dean dropped about of high school, like that is any kind of measure of his intelligence.”

“I—” 

But Castiel kept going. “In fact, Dean asked _me_ about his medications, when he was having trouble with his memory.”

Dean shook his head. _You did this to yourself, Sammy_. When Cas got a full head of steam behind him, he could go on like this for a while.

“As a matter of fact,” Castiel continued, undeterred, “All of the nurses are trained to instruct patients on every single one of the medications they administer. It’s part of the safety checks taught throughout nursing school.”

_Oh dear God_ , Dean thought. He had overheard plenty of these conversations between Cas and Hannah and every other nurse in the ICU. ‘Patient Safety’ was a HUGE deal for ICU nurses, much like making sure the patient rooms were scrupulously neat and obsessively cloroxing everything in reach. Also, there better be no wrinkles in the sheets or there would be hell to pay. Dean smothered his grin with a slug of beer. He now knew that wrinkles in the sheets caused uneven pressure on patient’s skin which led to skin breakdown. Skin breakdown was painful, and what’s more, could lead directly to a life-threatening infection! Not that Dean knew anything about it. Just like he didn’t know that Castiel had lots of feelings about nurses that _forgot_ to leave the call bell in reach for the patient.

Sam gamely kept on eating his pizza, nodding in all the right places since he couldn’t get a word in edgewise. 

“Hey, what day is today again,” Dean broke into the conversation.

“December eighth,” Sam told him, looking somewhat relived. 

“Yes, Dean. You were in the hospital four weeks today.” Castiel appeared to be pondering whether to add a jab about the lack of visitors during the first two of them.

“Okay, well I don’t know about you two but—” Dean made a show of yawning hugely. “Gosh, I’m pooped. Shouldn’t have missed my two afternoon naps, right Cas?”

Castiel ignored that salvo and merely picked up the pizza box and carried it into the kitchen.

The lines on Sam’s forehead were out in force as bitchface#4 came out. “Thanks for the pizza. Text me when you get up tomorrow,” he said to Dean while giving him a _what the hell_ look.

Dean shrugged innocently and gave Sam a smug smile. _Sucks to be you, Sammy!_ he thought. He scooted over on the couch and with some careful maneuvering got his leg up on the cushions. He sighed in relief. His leg started swelling when he got out of bed in the morning, and the more swollen it got, the more uncomfortable it was. Keeping his right arm folded on his chest—the hated sling was draped over the arm of the couch—he relaxed against the cushions and closed his eyes. He could hear Cas doing stuff in the kitchen- doing what? No idea. But it made enough noise that was comfortably familiar and before he knew it, he slipped into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epinephrine is a great drug. It is used for anapylactic reactions, cardiogenic shock and in special circumstances, to increase the heart rate.
> 
> All the patient safety concerns that Castiel has are real things that most nurses are concerned about. ICU nurses are the most anal out of all of them.


	5. Chapter 5 in which we have a fluffy ending.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas tries to return to his normal life. Everyone fails to be normal. The boys accidentally tell each other future plans. Much fluff!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! I finished a story! Thank you so much for reading and please consider leaving a comment. I really want to know what you think. :)

 

Compartmentalization was a useful skill, Castiel thought as he methodically wiped stool from a patient’s skin. He chucked the used wipes into the bin behind him, then slathered a generous portion of zinc ointment all along the patient’s backside and sacrum. He rolled up the soiled sheets and stuffed them under the patient, then expertly rolled up and tucked the clean sheets and pad under the soiled linen, making sure to straighten the wrinkles out as he went.

“Cas, you’re killing me,” the tech, Jessica said as she struggled to keep the patient turned on her side. The ventilator alarmed high pressure and Jess silenced it, huffing.

“I’m hurrying, promise,” he said. Once the sheets on his side were perfect he straightened up and reached over as Jess pushed from her side at the shoulders and hips. “Oops, watch the—”

The Vent tubing came apart from the trach and secretions sprayed everywhere. The vent started screaming and the patient went into a coughing fit.

“Motherfucker,” Castiel muttered, keeping his head turned to avoid the tracheal secretions and re attached the vent tubing to the trach. “Give me shit any day.” He glared at Jess as she finished rolling the patient to Castiel. He held her carefully, making sure the multiple IV lines didn’t get caught, and that the vent stayed connected.

“Are you gonna fill out an incident report, Castiel? Why weren’t you wearing your goggles?” Jessica sassed him cheerfully.

“Shut up,” he told her, grinning. She gathered the dirty linens from her side, dumping them on the floor for the moment, before straightening out the sheets on the bed ensuring they had no wrinkles. “Hey, can you stuff a pillow over there? It’s almost the top of the hour anyway.”

This patient was trached and sedated. She had been doing so well after her lung transplant but sadly had caught an infection in her lungs. She was on three pressors, an inotrope, an anticoagulant and an insulin infusion. A bedside dialysis machine at the foot of the bed connected to a giant specialized line in her neck.

At the top of each hour, Cas had to: verify all the infusions and clear the pumps. Record the foley output. Figure out the hourly intake and output in the dialysis flowsheet, and make the changes on the machine. Not to mention drawing blood, and titrating all of her vasopressors.

Jessica tucked the pillow so that it supported the patients back and butt, keeping her slightly turned to the side. “Have you suctioned her recently, Cas”

“No, why?”

Jess lifted the suction tubing showing him what the deep secretions looked like. 

Castiel huffed. “Awesome. Thank god she’s on a blood thinner.” Sarcasm was the only defense some days. You weren’t supposed to pull bright red blood out of someone’s lungs.

“Yeppers.” Jess gathered up the dirty linen and dumped it in the laundry cart.

He poked his head in the doctor’s workroom and notified them about the bloody secretions. He was pretty sure this patient was going to need a bronchoscopy before the end of the shift.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket but he ignored it. He just didn’t have time right now. Castiel really just wanted a giant glass of water, a hamburger and to pee. Not necessarily in that order.

“Cas?” He heard from behind him.

“Oh, hey Emily, what’s up?” He asked the nurse practitioner.

“I wanted to let you know I put an order in for a CT of the chest abdomen and pelvis—”

“Why don’t you throw the head in for good luck? You know they’ll want that tomorrow if we don’t do it today.”

Emily agreed via gesture, lifting a shoulder in a ‘what can you do?’ movement. “If it was indicated, I’d order it. But we need to find a source for her infection and this is a start. Oh, and can you draw blood cultures also? We’ll send a BAL and a urine and can you drop a dobhoff for me? She’s going to need contrast.”

“Her kidneys are tanked already!”

“I know Cas, and I agree with you, but it doesn’t matter if she’s dead, you know? At least we can replace her kidneys with dialysis.” Emily said. Her eyes were sympathetic.

“The orders are in already?”

“Yep, just signed them,” Emily said over her shoulder, heading back to the workroom.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He looked at his watch. Double fuck. It was past 1400 and his to-do list was a mile long.

Hannah passed him in the hallway looking entirely too cheerful.

“Why are you so happy,” he asked her. He pulled his report sheet out and folded it in half, jotting down all the things he now had to accomplish.

“Do you need a hug, Castiel?” she smirked.

“I hate you,” he said, and kept writing.

“That’s a yes!” She tackle hugged him, poked him in the ribs and started walking off. “I can’t remember what I came down here for,” she announced. “Ugh. I’ll just go wander around the supply room for five minutes.”

“Good luck finding anything,” he called back. Castiel stuffed his report back in his hip pocket and used the sink to wash his hands. He whipped out his phone.

To Dean:  
Probably going to be home late tonight. FYI.

He didn’t have to time to hope for an insta-response, but he felt cheered when the text bubble popped up that showed a reply.

From Dean:  
Honey are you having a bad day?

To Dean:  
Just busy, but I’m starving and need to pee and now I have to go to CT  
Every time I rinse back blood the dialysis machine goes batshit.

He darted into the tiny patient kitchen and swiped one of the small tubs of peanut butter and couple packets of graham crackers. He poured himself some diet coke from the fountain and guzzled it back before getting a refill. He used the crackers to scoop up some peanut butter and inhaled his snack. He was mildly thankful he had this patient today. At least he didn’t start with two, transfer them both out to step-down and then admit a fresh open heart case from the OR. This? This was doable. But first.

He really had to pee.

 

XXX

 

Dean was really sick of Netflix. He was sick of 24-hour news. He was sick of Law and Order. This was the second week of his stay with Castiel and Cas’s first week back at work after his long vacation. It was a little weird still to be here in Castiel’s space when he was at work. At least he could use his right arm a teeny little bit these days. Not to lift anything, oh hell no, but he was under orders to move it around a little more so he didn’t get a frozen shoulder.

Ah, well. He adjusted his position on the couch. Marching orders from Castiel included keeping his leg elevated as much as possible, and trying to move around the house as little as possible. For some reason, Cas was under the impression that Dean was a fragile flower that would wilt if he moved his ass off the couch too much. Except he expressed it in terms of big blue eyes and fears of him falling.

This was the third day in a row that Cas had to work. Dean fully anticipated he would look even more exhausted tonight than he did last night and the night before. He was finding that Working Cas was much more uptight than Vacation Cas, a fact that Dean had failed to appreciate.

While VacationCas! was pretty chill and generally supportive, WorkingCas! was tired, hungry and his feet hurt. The worst part? He liked to talk about his day. And his day was often revolting. Dean had already sat through an alarming number of conversations in which bodily fluids from shit to piss to vomit to –ugh—phlegm, were lovingly described in far, far too much detail.

He had one thing though. He had a debit card and he was not afraid to use it. He was happy to order whatever dinner food struck Castiel’s fancy, be it Thai or Pizza, or delivery from the local grocery. The look on Castiel’s face when he got home last night to find burgers from his favorite joint waiting for him when he walked in the door was amazing. 

It was like…like Cas had looked forward to seeing him all day, and was thrilled and surprised that Dean was still sitting on his couch. He couldn’t be worried about Dean just up and leaving could he? That didn’t even make sense, so he pushed it from his mind.

He unlocked his phone and shot off a text asking Cas if he had any food preferences for tonight. He didn’t sit around waiting for a reply though. Cas had explained (again in FAR too much detail) that he was often tied up in patient rooms and he was not ignoring him, he really couldn’t answer.

From Cas:  
Probably going to be late tonight. FYI. 

That sucked. He went in to the hospital at six am and didn’t seem to get home until 8:30 pm. Still, Dean had the feeling Cas was getting his ass kicked.

To Cas:  
Honey are you having a bad day?

To Dean’s surprise a reply came through almost instantly.

From Cas:  
Just busy, but I’m starving and need to pee and now I have to go to CT  
Every time I rinse back blood the dialysis machine goes batshit

 

Dean wasn’t sure what that meant so he started googling. To his own amusement, he found himself spending a lot of time on a nurses forum called allnurses.com. After a quick search on the critical care message boards he understood what Cas had been referring to. The more time Dean spent talking to Cas, the more questions he had and the more he looked up. The upshot of that is that Dean was figuring out how to survive living with a badass nurse.

There were lots of perks though. For one, Castiel in his pale blue scrubs was pretty delectable with his dark messy hair and bright blue eyes. Even exhausted and dragging at the end of his day, Cas just lit up the room with his snarky wit and warm heart. Dean thought out of the two of them Castiel was by far the better-looking man. 

It was still difficult to look in the mirror and not expect the reflection that looked back at you. Dean was still down over twenty pounds. He had a giant Frankenstein scar diagonally across his forehead. Hell, he had healing incisions on his stomach, and between his ribs. He was used to seeing this face in magazines, and a couple of billboards and it was like he was a whole different person.

He hadn’t bothered with his social media at all since before the accident. He hadn’t made any effort to ask Sam what was going on with his career. And, to Sam’s credit, after that first stilted conversation in the hospital, he had completely ignored finding out Dean was gay. He wasn’t sure if Cas knew about his singing career. Dean thought he’d maybe mentioned it? It seemed weird to randomly bring it up now, but then again, he didn’t want it to come out of nowhere and bite him in the ass either.

Now that he thought about it, Cas had mentioned when he brought Dean’s backpack from the wrecked car about taking a picture of his insurance info. There you go. His full name was definitely on his insurance card. So no need to bring it up again. Dean yawned. He was down to one nap a day and sadly it wasn’t time yet. He was saving it up from 4-6 so he could stay awake when Cas got home.

The past two nights they’d sat together eating dinner and watching Netflix. They were working their way through the first season of Stranger Things just one episode a night. This thing between them…it felt…big, it felt...right. Like it didn’t matter that Dean hadn’t kissed him yet. It didn’t matter that they didn’t sleep together. It felt like…He smiled. Kinda like it was meant to be.

Dean unlocked his phone and sent off a quick message before his nerves got the best of him.

To Cas:  
Hang in there sweetheart Ill be here when you get home

 

XXX

 

Castiel and his patient both survived the trip to CT, and he managed to avoid any snafus with the dialysis machine. Unfortunately, the abdominal CT showed a pretty big GI bleed so the heparin drip was off, putting her at much higher risk for a blood clot. The docs had to clean out her lungs with the bronchoscope suctioning large blood clots out of her left mainstem. At least she seemed to be oxygenating better afterwards.

Cas gave report to Meg, the night nurse. He checked his phone in the locker room and found it had died sometime earlier. The ICU must be lined in lead, he thought, annoyed. His cell phone sometimes got kicked off the wifi and spent hours trying to connect back. Except you had to put a password in every time so your phone just kept trying and trying. Ugh. He pulled a charger out of his backpack and plugged it in. He’d missed a message from Dean. Double fuck. He swiped the phone open. 

From Dean:  
Hang in there sweetheart Ill be here when you get home

 

He read the message again to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. _sweetheart_. That was…that was definitely not something you say to your platonic friend. Hannah kept telling him he was crazy that Dean was totally into him or as she put it “He LIKE likes you, doofus.”

Castiel couldn’t help having…doubts. After all there were things Hannah didn’t know about Dean. Just like there were things Dean kept to himself. Cas didn’t want to presume by asking anything. The other thing was, Cas really _liked_ coming home and finding Dean watching tv in his living room, or laying down in the guest bedroom. It was…cozy to come home to a house with the lights on, and amazing smells coming from the kitchen, especially when Cas knew damn well Dean couldn’t do any cooking.

He liked hearing humming from the other room. He really liked having a kind and handsome man smile at him when he came home exhausted, or listen to him rant about nurse things.

It was just going to make it that much harder when Dean decided to go back to his real life as a country music singer that filled stadiums and went on tours to Canada. But if it was hard to imagine his house without Dean in it, then it was even harder to imagine his life here in Virginia when Dean went back to Kansas. 

Compartmentalization, he reminded himself. Castiel took some deep breaths. He clocked out and headed home.

 

XXX

 

One pretty cool thing about Virginia, Dean discovered, is that there was a thriving delivery service. He checked the time: 7:30. That mean the dinner delivery should be here shortly. He’d ordered burgers and fries from a local diner called the Mountainside Grille. From the website, it looked like they had a pretty nice view of the nearby mountains. Hopefully, they could go there in person before too long and eat in.

Dean had gotten pretty good at transferring himself from the wheelchair to the couch. His balance was not fantastic but that was mostly because his jacked up arm and leg were on the same side of his body. Cas had explained that it would’ve been a little easier if the ‘contralateral limb’ had been the affected one. An episode of googling later informed him that contralateral meant opposite and ipsilateral meant the same side. One thing for sure, his vocabulary was expanding by leaps and bounds staying with Cas!

He had the next episode of Stranger Things cued up and ready and the food on the coffee table when Cas got home.

“Hello, Dean,” the nurse said wearily, dropping his keys on the kitchen table. 

“Hey Cas. Wow, you look beat. Ready to be off tomorrow?” That pulled a small smile from Castiel.

“Most definitely. I’m going to shower real quick and then I’ll join you.”

A few minutes later Cas reappeared in comfy sweats and an old t shirt. He wore moccasins on his feet, and his hair was damp and curling at the ends. He looked like he’d toweled it off briefly and let it do whatever. He had dark circles under his eyes.

Instead of sitting at the far-left end of the couch, Dean had taken the middle cushion, leaving an inviting space on either side of him for Castiel to sit. He patted the couch with his left hand and said, “Hungry?”

Eyeing the plate ready for him, Castiel widened his eyes and said, “Starving.” He settled next to Dean, close enough that their thighs and shoulders brushed. He hunched over his plate, scarfing down the meal.

“Hey, hey, easy big guy, take a breath or two.” Dean had never seen anyone eat so fast in his life.

Cas bobbed his head up and down, swallowing. “Sorry, that’s um—” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a nurse thing. We don’t get a lot of time to eat so you get used to eating as fast as possible.” He leaned back against the cushions. He glanced over at Dean. “Any problems today?”

Dean shook his head. “Nope. Sam came over and hung out for awhile. Got my appointments for therapy next week.” He hesitated before asking, “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Working Christmas Eve and Christmas day. I’m off New Years Eve and Day, though.” Castiel said. “Have you made plans yet?”

Wiping his mouth with napkin Dean told him, “Nah. Both my parents have passed. Sam and I usually get together for Christmas though. Mostly I stay home on New Year’s.”

“Really? That seems hard to believe.” Cas was working through his fries one at a time.

Dean frowned. “What does that mean?”

Castiel shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “I mean. I just thought. I don’t know, that you like to go out and party on New Year’s.”

“Hey, when I was younger, sure. But I’m in my mid-thirties. I’m not going out trolling or anything. I feel like the holidays mean more if—” He suddenly found his food very fascinating. “—If you’re with someone you care about. Otherwise, it’s just another day.” Dean made himself look at Cas and then couldn’t look away.

He was sitting so close to him, smelling _amazing_ fresh from the shower. His dark hair fluffed all over the place as it dried. Dean really wanted to run his fingers through it. He couldn’t help stealing a glance at Castiel’s lips, wondering how he tasted and if they were as soft as they looked…

“Dean,” Castiel said, and Dean saw those blue eyes drop to his own mouth.

Dean shifted on the couch, turning his body more toward Castiel. He reached out with his left hand, using his thumb to swipe against Castiel’s stubbled cheek while his fingers slid into that silky fluffy hair. Cas reached up and held Dean’s palm there, closing his eyes for a moment before turned his face into the caress and kissing his palm.

With the slightest amount of pressure he urged Castiel closer. Dean kissed his cheek before nuzzling into his neck, rubbing his own cheek against Castiel’s. He felt Castiel’s arms come around his shoulders carefully. Castiel scratched his nails against the back of Dean’s neck, startling an appreciative hum from him.

“Dean,” Cas said again, but more demanding this time. When Dean drew back a little Castiel surged forward, capturing his mouth eagerly. Totally on board with this plan, Dean licked at Castiel’s lips, until he opened for him, then kissed him slow and deep, savoring the silky slide on their tongues together. All sense of time fell away, leaving a deep sense of relief that this was real, this was happening…

Eventually, Castiel slowed down his kisses, pulling back a little. “Dean,” he said, sounding wrecked. “I have an idea about our netflixing tonight?”

Dean smiled tenderly. “Cas, are you asking me to Netflix and chill? Cause I am so down for that.”

A pink flush made Cas look even cuter than normal. He arranged them on the couch so that Dean was laying back against Castiel’s chest, with his bad leg on a cushion (of course) and Castiel’s legs outside of his. The computer balanced on Dean’s lap as the show started. Castiel reached for Dean’s hand, threading their fingers together.

His rumbly voice in Dean’s ear said, “Is it wrong that I am really happy you hit a deer? I would never have wished you to go through so much pain and suffering, but I am just so… _happy_ that you’re here with me.”

Dean closed his eyes, savoring the closeness. He hadn’t realized how starved for touch he’d become. “Swear to God, I wouldn’t change a thing. As long as we ended up here.”

“You do realize when you get better, we’re going to have to fix my fence, right? And do something about your car in my shed.” Cas softened his words with kisses.

“Mmm-hmm. We can do that. What else should we do, Cas?” He rubbed his thumb over Cas’s fingers softly.

“Want to show you the orchard on top of the mountain. Make you a pie.” Dean heard way Cas relaxed into this new dynamic. His deep rumbly voice settled something deep within Dean. “Want to go wine tasting. Take you to all the breweries. Hike Old Rag. Camp in the Shenandoah. Want you to stay,” he finished, sounding almost shy.

Dean twisted his neck around, trying to find those blue eyes. “Not going anywhere, babe. What else?”

But Cas shook his head minutely. “You tell me yours.”

“Ah, okay.” He took a deep breath. Cas was so much braver than he was. “I want to build you a new fence. Want to grill burgers with you next summer. Cut down a Christmas tree for you. Bring you food at the hospital when you work holidays. Take you to Kansas to meet my Uncle.”

“Dean…”

“Maybe plant some flowers in the front yard. Grow tomatoes in the back. I want…I want everything, Cas. As long as it’s with you.”

He could feel Castiel’s chest rising and falling quickly underneath him.

“Are you okay? Did I freak you out?” He tried to twist in order to see his face.

Castiel laughed. “No, Dean, I—I’m _perfect_ , you don’t…I’ve been afraid that you’re going to go back to your real life and that I’d never see you again.” He took their clasped hands and raised them to his mouth where he placed kissed on Dean’s knuckles. He carefully squeezed a hug the best he could in this position. “I want you to build a garden out back. Grill me burgers, and visit me at work. I want to meet all the rest of your family, and have you meet mine, although you’ve already met one of them.”

“What? No way!” Dean exclaimed. “Who?”

“Hannah is my fraternal twin.”

“You are just bullshitting me now.”

Castiel pressed a kiss to the hinge of Dan’s jaw. “Not at all. She used to keep me updated on your condition when you were really sick. Tell me when I needed to come back in.”

“Can I tell you something, Cas?”

“Anything,” Castiel said.

“I would hit every damn deer in the state if it brought me to you. Crash through a hundred fences, roll down a thousand mountainsides…” Dean smiled as Cas chuckled under him, nearly giggling. “…And every time you ask me to do something, you know what I’m going to say?”

“No, what?”

“I’m gonna say, ‘Yes Deer.’”

Castiel groaned. “That was terrible.”

“Yes, Deer.”

 

-fin-

**Author's Note:**

> VAP- ventilator acquired pneumonia  
> Vanc - Vancomycin a very strong antibiotic that treats gram positive bacteria  
> Zosyn- broad spectrum antibiotic that treats gram negative bacteria  
> Cefipime- Antibiotic that treats gram negative bacteria. Penetrates well into the CSF.  
> BAL- broncho-alveolar lavage  
> fasciotomy- A cut made by a physician to release pressure in the skin.


End file.
